The Carpe Diem Theory
by PerfectPerception
Summary: Fresh out of college, broke and without any other viable options, close friends, Mark and Chelsea, decide to take a risky chance and move to Sunshine Islands; simultaneously stirring up a bit of drama in the wake of their arrival. Multiple pairings.
1. o1: The Proposition

**Author's notes:** This idea struck me for some time now and only recently have I been able to flesh it out a bit. As stated in the summary, there will be multiple pairings throughout the story, however, I _do_ have an idea of what the final pairings will be and, of course, I'll drop hints here and there for you to catch :) Hopefully, you'll enjoy this story and feedback would be amazing!**  
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**Chapter One:**  
><strong>The Proposition<strong>

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The aroma of cooked eggs and bacon had seeped through the tiny apartment, crawling into the corners of the small area; the smell at its heaviest in the open kitchen. A tall, slender boy with broad shoulders sat at his kitchen's counter with a newspaper in hand and a plate of half-eaten scrambled eggs and fried bacon set off to the side. He leaned forward as he re-read the paper in front of him with bright green eyes once more before his vision fell to the flat's front door, watching as the faded golden doorknob jiggled violently before the door was forcibly pushed open and in stepped a tiny brunette, clearly flustered with the weighted door.

"Damn thing," she cursed under her breath, removing the apron from her waist before throwing it on the nearby couch.

The seated blond boy stared on with amusement as the small girl continued to mutter dark things to herself, her eyes set downward at the room's brown carpet as she became lost in her thoughts. She hurriedly removed her black sneakers and began to unbutton her frilly pink shirt, not bothering to take off her name-tag that had CHELSEA printed across it in dark, bold letters. He smirked and cleared his throat pointedly before she unbuttoned her work shirt too far and she finally looked up from the ground, squeaking as her cheeks flushed.

"Mark!" she trilled at him as he laughed at her. "Oh, you big idiot! How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," he chuckled. "Long night at the diner, Chels?"

She sighed, her prior embarrassment and anger subsiding abruptly, and took the hair tie out of her high ponytail and let her long locks fall freely down her back and shoulders. "Like you wouldn't believe."

"I've got your breakfast wrapped up in the fridge," he said, nodding toward the refrigerator placed on the other side of the counter he was sitting at. "Coffee just got done, too."

"Coffee will do," she said before heading into the open kitchen, pouring herself a generous cup of the dark coffee, adding gracious amounts of cream and sugar before turning to her friend on the opposite side of the dirtied tile counter. Once she was settled in enough, leaning against the shelves next to the stove, she looked at her roommate. "No work for you today?"

"Not till four."

"Oh. How's Christina?"

"Broke up with me."

She bit her lip, averting his blank gaze. "Oh… Well, plenty of other fish in the sea?"

"Not too much into fish," he smiled faintly. "Don't be awkward about it, Chels. I only dated the girl for two months; besides, you can't really romance a lady off of tips from a cafe that sells coffee drinks and pastries."

Chelsea sighed. "You'd think we'd find better jobs by now. It's been like, what? Two seasons since we've graduated college? After this spring season, we'll hit summer and it'll be a year and I'll still be a waitress at a twenty-four hour diner and you'll still be making mocha lattes for soccer moms and business dads. A bit pathetic, isn't it?"

"Afraid so," he agreed dismissively, "but you can't expect much with this economy, eh?" She shrugged, defeated and he clicked his tongue thoughtfully before adding, "that being said, I've got this idea that popped in my head when Christina broke up with me last night."

She looked at Mark questionably. "Oh?"

"It could maybe help us with our money situation," he commented.

She repressed a bitter laugh. "This'll be a good one," she muttered and he ignored her snide remark.

"Well, you know how my sister, Claire, took up that farm in Mineral Town…" he glanced at her and the brunette arched an eyebrow in response, urging him to continue. "And your cousin, what was his name –– Jack, right? Well, I remember you telling me he inherited a farm and moved into it after your grandfather died."

Chelsea snorted before taking a sip of her coffee. "You can't be serious." She frowned behind her mustard colored mug when he didn't falter the slightest as her relatively harsh words collided into him and his building idea.

Mark lifted a single sheet of paper from the daily newspaper delivered every morning to their apartment complex, dangling an article he had highlighted and teared out of the ads space in front of her. She resisted the desire to roll her eyes, instead leaning forward onto the kitchen counter to take a good look at what her blond friend was so insistent upon.

"Look, there's an old farm that's been vacated for about a year on Sunshine Islands. We could scramble up enough money and move there for a bit, make a profit by farming and animal produce, sell the entire property eventually, and move back to the city once we're stable enough to afford an actual decent apartment while we job hunt for our actual careers." He grinned lightly, placing the article back onto the table. "It can't be that hard if my sister and your cousin can run their own farms by themselves."

"Right but they've always been the black sheep of our families," the frown that had claimed Chelsea's face grew heavier and Mark watched as his optimism was drastically weighted down by his counterpart's growing wariness. "Besides, we don't know the first thing to farming when it comes down to it."

Mark squinted downward at the slightly crinkled newspaper set before him, smoothing out the creases with his hands as he bit his lip. Only when another idea was pulled to the forefront of his mind did he look at Chelsea, another bright smile curling at his lips. "Then," he said, "we simply learn how to farm."

"Mark!" cried the brunette, her eyes narrowing into slits at his childish antics. "Stop fooling around! I'm being serious here!"

"I've been visiting Claire since her first year at Mineral Town," he reasoned calmly, "I'm fairly well acquainted with her farm routines. It's really not that hard, and plus, there'd be two of us working together which would lessen the load quite a bit."

"And where are we going to sleep exactly in that house?"

"You take the bed, I'll get the pull out bed in the couch," he shrugged. He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Don't tell me _now_ you think it's going to be weird that we're roommates. I dunno if you've forgotten or not, but we're best friends and we've lived together since the third year of school."

After shooting her friend a crippling glare for his dry remarks, Chelsea sulked back, frowning once more before her shoulders fell in defeat. "You really think this is a good idea?" She furrowed her eyebrows. "I mean, you've actually thought this through?" She chewed on the inside of her cheek, momentarily pausing before she pressed, "and why can't we just move to Mineral Town with your sister?"

"No affordable lots available," Mark answered with an easy shrug. He stood to his feet, tucking his shabby stool under the messy counter, and looked at her with an earnest smile. "I met one of the townspeople there; he travels to other farm towns during the springtime and he'll occasionally visit Sunshine Islands for a vacation or to do odd jobs. In fact, a few of Claire's friends visit the islands on a yearly basis. I know it's not much coming from any stranger's mouth, but they all say it's a nice place; it's just small, like the rest of the farming community generally is. I'm sure your cousin's is equally as limited."

Chelsea recalled a letter Jack had written her aunt once, apologizing for not attending a family gathering because the town he was currently residing in was having a bit of a financial problem and he was in hot pursuit of a rare butterfly or something of that nature that only came around during the summer season. Being the middle of the season, time was of the essence, and while her aunt had a sour smile on for the rest of the reunion, she hadn't called up her son in rage laced with disappointment, but quietly excused his absence instead. Though, maybe her aunt wasn't entirely _too_ letdown because Chelsea had admittedly read a small snippet in his letter of some pink-haired woman that caught her older, handsome cousin's eyes.

The brunette raised her eyebrows in indifference. "I guess. I haven't really talked to him since he's moved there, though."

She frowned again, although, could feel the sides of her mouth strain slightly as she glanced at her roommate whose smile was shining so brightly in the limited amount of sunlight flittering through the dusty blinds of their apartment. Her stomach clenched and she knew she was going to mentally kick herself every morning for the next following seasons, _hard_, for what she knew she was bound to say next; sighing in almost silent defeat and Mark beamed, grinning rather crookedly.

He could tell she was caving in and his eyes lit with sudden excitement.

"I mean, if Jack can do it… and your sister, well, she's _always_ been a city girl but she seems to be fairing well…" she muttered more to herself than him before shaking her head in intent to clear her cluttering thoughts. "Well," she licked her dry lips, "how much do we need to make this happen?"

"About 15000G," Mark answered, rushing forward as Chelsea's face abruptly paled at the mention of the damaging amount of money the two needed to set this absurd idea in motion. "I've already got 3000 in my savings, you said you had like 1000 from your birthday, right? Claire offered to let me borrow 4000 from her and as for the rest," she caught the quick side-glance he gave and she felt sudden dread overtake her body.

"_Mark_," she said warningly.

"We'll sell the stuff we don't need here and I mean, I don't think the islands' have cars as transportation––"

"––hold up!" she interrupted him sharply, glaring at her blond friend still residing across the kitchen counter and out of fatal harm's way. "What do you mean they don't have cars?"

For the first time from the start of their conversation, Mark chuckled nervously; all earlier effervescent pretenses falling. She eyed him suspiciously, frowning as he sheepishly scratched the nape of his neck with one hand. "Well, I guess when you have a smaller community like Sunshine Islands or Mineral Town like my sister's, well, ah, everything's pretty much in walking distance and I reckon the exhaust from the car would be bad for the crops and animals…"

Chelsea shook her head feverishly, holding up her hands. "No. No, no, _no_." she snapped. "No way, Mark."

Finally, Mark had weaved around the tiled counter that had previously divided the two friends and as he approached her, she stepped back. He took another step forward insistently and she, in turn, parroted his move, only in reverse. They continued their game of cat and mouse until the tall blond had his petite roommate backed against the walk-in pantry's closed door.

"Chelsea," he soothed rather charmingly. Her hardened expression didn't falter the least bit. He then rubbed her shoulders in attempt to subdue the tension boiling in her veins, continuing with a faint grin, "we'll be able to buy another car when we come back. In fact, we'll have enough money to buy two, I bet."

Chelsea coldly shrugged off his hands and folded her arms across her chest. "I've had that car since I was _sixteen_, Mark. It was my birthday present for goddess's sake! You're insane if you think I'd just sell my baby without a second thought!"

"Your 'baby' has a dent the size of a medicine ball on its trunk and the passenger side's door only opens from the outside handle," he told her pointedly. "Besides, it has horrible gas mileage. I bet your parents gave you that car only so you'd practically be forced to get job to fill up the tank every week."

"So how's it going to sell for any money if it's as horrible as you say it is!" she whined in protest.

"Brand name," he answered, "anyone will buy a Lexus, even if it's a piece of shit. They'll buy it for that car brand. My uncle works at a used car lot and he sells those kind of cars all the time. I bet you if we sell that, along with some other stuff we'll never use at the islands, we'll have enough money to buy the farm in two weeks."

Chelsea looked downward, staring at her pink colored socks so she didn't have to meet her friend's determined eyes. If she was going to be honest, Mark somehow always ended up getting his way when it came to anything; girls, grades for his classes, jobs –– _anything_, you name it, and he could charm his way into obtaining it. She knew, in retrospect, he was going to somehow win in the end and her painted red with cream leather interior baby was going to part ways with her forever.

"What if we don't have enough money in two weeks?" she quipped weakly, finally glancing at her friend and meeting his eyes.

"We stay here," he deadpanned, "we stay here and try to work something else out with the money we do manage to gather up." He held out his hand. "Deal?"

Chelsea paused, swallowing down the morning's events. Admittedly, she knew she was just as miserable as Mark was here with their dead-end trivial jobs with minimum paychecks that just barely made the month's rent along with other bills, no other opportunities springing upon them; the list could go on. Maybe she did need a break from the city's foggy mornings and thick nights to a place where artificial lights wouldn't outshine the sky's stars, where things were a bit simpler and quieter. She sighed to herself before taking his hand, hesitantly shaking it.

"Deal."


	2. o2: The Arrival

**Author's notes:** Well, here's chapter two! The dynamics of Mark and Chelsea's friendship as well as their family backgrounds will be mentioned and explained here and there (although, not so much in this chapter…) and a few familiar faces will pop up from here on out. Like I've mentioned before, pairings are still all up in the air and constantly subject to change so far, so don't take any implications in this and the next following chapters too seriously. I really appreciate the reviews I received and I'd like to thank those who left reviews or favorited this story. Also, I forgot to mention in the first chapter that '_Carpe Diem_' means seize the day in Latin; which could refer to Mark and Chelsea seizing the day/opportunity to move to Sunshine Islands and start anew. And lastly, enjoy and any kind of feedback would be wonderful :)

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**Chapter Two:**  
><strong>The Arrival<br>**

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_"Deal."_

Seriously, who would have thought the useless objects lying around their apartment combined with Chelsea's "baby" in the form of a beat-up red Lexus would've sprung up the necessary amount of money and then some? After a tearful goodbye to her car while Mark tore her away from it, hoisting her up and over his broad shoulder as he walked away from the parking car lot with her wailing loudly to have her vehicle back, Chelsea certainly didn't think so.

But here she was, luggage in hand boarding off a ship with Mark right beside her. Admittedly, she could already smell the difference in the air here than in the city; the atmosphere seemed lighter, fresher, and the ocean breeze wasn't anchored down with pollution. The roads from what she could see also didn't have trash littered about and plenty of greenery surrounded them. Mark nudged his friend who had momentarily spaced, her eyes wandering from the sky to the sea to the town surrounding them, and she jerked in surprise at the gentle poke to her side, glancing upward at her blond friend.

Even Mark looked different here. His blond hair had appeared golden under the beaming sunlight and the green in his irises had lightened and glowed, his once lighter skin tone darkened slightly on the two day voyage over and his skin turned to a healthy tan color. Everything about him seemed ablaze and gleaming and she was, once again, irritatingly reminded how handsome her best friend was.

"You having a little trouble there?" he smirked as a sea breeze had picked up and blew and swept her hair across her face. She attempted to push the hair away from her eyes, flustered and embarrassed as Mark's chuckles reached her ears and she groaned loudly to herself.

"How could you tell?" she sighed and Mark laughed, gently lowering the bags in his hands to the ground and untied the bandanna around his neck. He handed it to her and she looked at him, eyebrows raised. "You sure?"

"I've got another one," he shrugged earnestly. She smiled brightly at him before tying the bandanna around her head, pulling back the hair that was blowing mercilessly across her eyes and face. He took something from his pocket, grinning at her before asking, "we have everything under control now?"

"Yep," she answered, "except this." She swiped what Mark had taken from his overall's pocket, exhaling in annoyance as she threw it in the nearby trash despite his threatening glare. "You started smoking again, Mark? You know, I bet they don't even sell cartons over here, or if they do, it's outrageously overpriced."

"Nag, nag, nag," he groaned, rolling his bright eyes. "I swear it's like we're married sometimes."

Chelsea snorted. "Yeah right. Good luck to whoever has that job in the future."

She squinted in the sunlight, feeling her arms grow tired as they crossed the bridge toward their current residence: Ranch Island. Tired and a little worn out after the walk, they finally found themselves at the slightly shabby farmhouse they had managed to purchase within the past two weeks, with a large field in dire of need of weeding and cleaning, and a few other barns and areas that needed some fixing up. Chelsea felt herself growing disheartened as the numbers continued to add up in the forefront of her brain.

"It's better than that shithole we were living in before," Mark mumbled to her when he caught the look on his friend's face. He opened the door to their new house, allowing Chelsea to step in before him. "And at least this entire property is ours."

The house was as it was described in the newspaper ad, nothing too spectacular nor entirely rundown, and the two set their things down on or near their respectable beds for the next coming seasons. Chelsea glanced as Mark placed his luggage next to the pull out couch, frowning guiltily as she looked at the mattress before her.

"A bed's a bed, Chels," Mark reminded her reassuringly as he grabbed a red bandanna shoved at the bottom of his suitcase. He quickly tied it around his neck where the one he gave to Chelsea previously was before grinning sheepishly at her. "So work first? Or should we try to meet some townsfolk while we have the chance?"

"We should really start working," insisted the brunette but her body silently ached and she was just beginning to regain her land legs; still slightly unbalanced and wobbly from her trip over on the ship. "But I guess meeting some new people wouldn't hurt."

"Let's start where we came from," Mark suggested, "the Verdure Island I think it was called? I saw a few shops and houses there. We'll check out the shops."

The two set out again, the sun hanging mid-way toward the ocean. Though they hadn't checked the house's clock, they assumed it had to be midday by now and the weather, as if it was almost welcoming them to their new town and home, was pleasantly warm and cloudless. As Mark advised, they walked to Verdure Island, visiting the diner first, meeting the owner briefly, before heading toward the only other store in the area. It appeared to be an animal store, a slightly sour smell hitting their nostrils as they approached the shop before walking in.

They were greeted by the backside of a slender blonde woman. Chelsea felt herself internally flinch at the girl, noticing even from the back the blonde appeared well-endowed and inherited rather attractive genes. Once the door softly shut behind them, the girl reeled around and, as the brunette predicted, was incredibly stunning.

She had a clipboard in hand and gave them small a wave with her free one. "Hello! I haven't seen your faces around here!" She stepped a little closer to them, grinning warmly. "I'm Julia. My mama, Mirabelle, and I run this store. We provide the townsfolk with animals and products that cater to them."

Mark cleared his throat, flustered, before his voice miraculously resurfaced and he spoke politely, "we just moved here. This Chelsea," he thumbed to his left, "and I'm Mark. It's a pleasure to meet you, Julia."

Julia smiled at the newcomers. "Oh, so you're the city boy and girl who moved into Ranch Island." She commented sweetly, a flare of a comforting southern accent to her words. "It's nice to meet you two. I'd love to sit and chat a little more but unfortunately, mama and I are a little behind on inventory counting. Please feel free to look around though!" She gave them another dazzling smile before scooting off to an organized shelf.

"There's gotta be something here in the water," Mark muttered to himself, stiffening when Chelsea snapped her head toward him. She followed his eyes resting on the back of Julia who had continued to preoccupy herself with counting and checking the store's displayed merchandise and jotting down notes on her inventory clipboard.

"What was that?" she smirked, elbowing him right in the ribs. He spluttered up a cough, clutching his side as she giggled. "Oh, you don't even need to say much,_ city boy_, your eyes have been doing most of the talking."

Mark glared menacingly at her, refusing to meet Julia's stare that had momentarily fell upon them at the sound of the blond farmer coughing rather violently. "Shove it," he hissed lowly, eying Chelsea angrily; discouraging her from prodding any further.

Despite his warning glare, she grabbed the bill of his hat from behind, twisting it around his head playfully, receiving his loud, vocal protests in return. She leaned closer to him, bridging the previous large gap between them so she could continue to tease him quietly out of Julia's earshot.

"Keep your pair of eyes from trying ogle all the pretty girls at once; you might find yourself going cross-eyed permanently."

The blond pulled his friend's red bandanna over her eyes, smiling in satisfaction as she squealed in response, batting his hands away. "Mark!"

"Come on, let's get a move on," he laughed as he guided her out of the store. The brunette continued to whine to her friend, stumbling outside as she fumbled with her bandanna in attempt to fix it along with her hair. "Wait, Chels––!"

"Oof!" Chelsea yelped out as she bumped into something Mark was probably trying to warn her about and lost her footing and fell backward to the ground. A small cloud of dust gathered around her and as it cleared, the brunette found herself face to face with a pair of steely, offhanded colored eyes belonging to a thin, tan and rather chiseled face of a young man. "Oh, I'm sorry, I ––"

"Watch it." hissed the boy before hoisting her roughly to her feet, immediately dropping her hands from his as if they were on fire once she regained her balance.

"Hey buddy," Mark stepped in, frowning with his eyebrows pushed together as he spoke, "that's no way to talk to a woman."

The boy standing before them, clad from head to toe in western attire, gave them both a once over before cocking an eyebrow rather condescendingly at the pair. "So you two must be the couple who moved into the old farmhouse," he sneered. Chelsea placed a steady hand on her blond friend's arm when she noticed his hands clench at the sound of the patronizing tone directed toward them. She could feel him sulk back and relax somewhat upon her touch and she sighed silently in relief to herself.

"_Friends_ who moved into the farmhouse," corrected Mark, stiffly. "And who might you be?"

"Your livestock dealer." The boy flicked a piece of his peculiar silver colored hair out of his eyes before he paused, glancing at the petite girl before returning his vision back onto the blond farmer. "But we'll see if you're even capable of catering to any kind of animal."

"I know how to deal with cows, sheep, and chickens," Mark informed curtly before giving the animal dealer a forced smile. Chelsea resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her friend was always such a polite gentleman, even when she could feel the near tangible distaste he already harbored for the silver-haired man radiating off his tall body in large waves. "So you'll be seeing us fairly soon."

"It was nice meeting you," Chelsea intervened quickly, tugging persistently on her friend's sleeve so he would look at her. She arched an eyebrow at him and titled her head slightly, motioning to him that it was time to leave before the uncomfortable tension that had manifested itself between the three continued to thicken to a dangerously choking level. "But we've got to go. Sorry for bumping into you."

"Just watch where you're going next time. Oh," he added just as the farming pair was about to scurry off, "and no cigarettes near _my_ animals, got that, kid?"

Mark opened his mouth in retort before Chelsea sharply pulled him away, his remark seeping back into his throat as she jerked him farther from the condescending livestock dealer. Once they were half way across the bridge and nearing Sprout Island, Mark gently removed Chelsea's vice-like grip on his wrist. She slowed her pace and he shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing at her through the corner of his eye.

"I don't like that guy," he stated plainly.

"He's rude," she agreed, "but we should remain civil with him. It look like he's the only resource to buying livestock around here."

"Of course," Mark smiled grimly. He took off his cap before fixing his hair only to place his hat back on, allowing himself to calm his nerves. He gave her a familiar grin and she mirrored it weakly. "Well, off to the next island then?"


	3. o3: Cowboys and Cocktails

**Author's notes:** Well, this is definitely the longest chapter yet! Although, I wish it wasn't _this_ long -_- But, at the same time, I find this chapter and all its contents completely necessary for the very beginning of the story. Once again, thank you for the feedback for those who responded to the first two installments of this story. I hope to hear from you all again!

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**Chapter Three:**  
><strong>Cowboys and Cocktails<br>**

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"Looks like there's just houses here," Mark concluded as the pair made their way into the neighboring island, Sprout Island, from Verdure Island. His eyes calculatingly scanned the open area before looking back at Chelsea who was still brushing the dirt and sand from her clothes. "That's an inn, I think," he pointed to the closest large building beside them, "we could check it out if you want."

Chelsea shrugged, impartial. "It doesn't matter. It's getting late though." She titled her chin skyward, shielding her eyes with a hand as she squinted at the sun that continued to slowly dip toward the ocean's horizon. "The pier looks nice."

"Well come on then," Mark smiled at her, giving her a gentle tug as he led her toward the dock. "We'll watch the sunset." She laughed at his suggestion. "What? A guy can't like nature and all that jazz too?"

"Shush," she rolled her eyes, jabbing him lightly in the rib. He smirked, leading her toward the end of the pier. As they approached the wooden dock, Chelsea squealed in surprise as a fishing rod had sprung out of the ocean and crashed onto the sturdy pier next to what appeared to be a metal box filled with even more fishing gear. Mark tensed beside the brunette, immediately stepping ahead of his friend.

After another loud splash, the two watched as a pair of hands grabbed the edge of the dock, and up came a half-naked boy hoisting himself onto the pier. He wiped himself off with his hands the best he could, looking up in surprise at his unannounced audience standing rigidly feet away.

"Oh!" he blinked. "Sorry about that!" He laughed smoothly before shrugging. "Lost my fishing pole so I dived in to get it. Didn't think I'd hop back up on the pier to anyone."

"_Oh dear goddess_," Chelsea mumbled under her breath as the shirtless boy approached them, his golden tan skin glistening from the leftover water that settled momentarily on his flesh. The separated droplets gleamed under the sun's warm glow and he sheepishly ran a hand through his curly wet hair, slicking it back, and set his fishing gear down next to him before holding out a hand.

"Denny," he offered, smiling handsomely.

"Chelsea," she managed to choke out, refraining herself from completely gawking at the boy standing in front of her.

"I'm Mark," greeted the blond once Denny had let go of Chelsea's hand and extended it toward him. "Is that your boat?" He eyed the lavish yacht docked at the end of the pier.

Denny shook his head. "Nah. That's Will's. Have you met him? He's the tall British chap," he mocked an English accent for his last sentence, grinning at them when they shook their heads. He dropped the accent that twisted the sound of his words, before informing lightly, "ah. Well, he's Sabrina's cousin." He furrowed his eyebrows when the pair's expressions remained blank at the mention of a new name. "You haven't met Sabrina either?"

"We didn't want to intrude," Mark explained honestly. "Where we come from, you don't normally knock on anyone's door that you don't know; even if they're your next door neighbor."

Denny appeared stricken from their normal and rather unfriendly customs they were rooted upon. "Really? That sounds terrible!" he let a bellow of a laugh erupt from him as he bent down to grab his gear before straightening back up again, "Well, how 'bout this, I'll talk to Nick about using his diner for the night and we'll celebrate your arrival to Sunshine Islands. I'll invite everyone so you can meet them."

"That's awfully nice of you," the brunette mumbled, rather embarrassed by the gesture.

Mark looked slightly uncomfortable too. "Yeah man, you don't have to do that if it's a lot of trouble."

The fisherman waved his hands dismissively at them. "Don't even worry about it. Besides, it's not like anyone's going to complain about having an opportunity to drink. I dunno if everyone will show up on such short notice, but we'll see, right?"

And with that, the quick and frantic planning and inviting began.

A few hours later, Mark and Chelsea and found themselves at the diner currently inhabiting most of the young folk of the town. A few of the older citizens had made brief appearances at the celebration, welcoming Mark and Chelsea to their islands, but left shortly after to close shops or to retire for the evening. Eventually, the population of the diner had dwindled down to only the young adults; the alcohol and their own festering curiosity regarding the newcomers insisting them to stay.

Chelsea was currently surrounded by three girls around her age, all sitting off to the side at a round table while they chattered and gossiped with one another. Lanna, a popstar on somewhat of a "break" as she called it, dazzled the girls with her fame-induced stories, swishing her glossy dyed blonde hair over her shoulders as she reached the dramatic parts of her Hollywood adventures. Natalie, a girl with light red hair equipped with significant amounts of pink hues in her locks, rolled her eyes, seeming to chug her glass of wine every time Lanna shrieked on about something. Julia, who Mark and Chelsea had met earlier, however listened in awe to every word the popstar exaggerated.

Once Lanna's tales had momentarily came to an end, Julia turned to Chelsea, asking politely, "so how do you like the islands so far?"

"They're actually very nice. A lot cleaner than the city," smiled Chelsea.

"That's good to hear," the southern bell beamed. She glanced at Natalie next, questioning, "where's Pierre tonight?"

"On some baking spree; last time I talked to him he thought he discovered the Holy Grail of all recipes or something like that." Natalie shrugged before leaning toward the new farmer. "Alright, enough with the small talk though, let's cut to the chase." She craned her neck further to stare tentatively at Chelsea with raised eyebrows. "How long?"

"How long what?" blinked the brunette.

Natalie frowned. "You and Mark," she said pointedly. When Chelsea's face remained blank, the girl frowned further. "You and Mark aren't married?"

"Oh," Chelsea blushed awkwardly, "ah, well, n-no, actually."

"Engaged then?" The brunette's expression failed to falter and Julia pressed on, "dating?"

"We're just friends," the farmer answered lamely. "Best friends. We've known each other since freshman year of high school. We became roommates during our third year of college."

Natalie clicked her tongue in almost distaste before taking a sip of her wine. "You two went to the same college too?"

"Not intentionally," reassured Chelsea. "It was just a community college." She looked at the three girls that continued to lean closer onto their table, tentatively listening carefully to every sentence the new girl said; as if they were hanging onto her words with spiraling fascination and building anticipation. She felt her cheeks flush from the foreign attention that had, strongly against her will, been placed upon her. "Sorry, did I offend you girls…?"

Lanna was the first to snap out the trance that had washed over her, resting back into her chair as she shook her head. She smirked as Chelsea glanced at her warily and poured herself another glass of the dark colored alcohol before replying, "oh no, darling, it's just people out here are a bit… _backward_ you could say."

Julia's mouth gaped open in offense while Natalie glared darkly at her. In return the popstar didn't falter the slightest nor flinch the least, disregarding the other two girls that were seated with her and Chelsea. She shrugged dismissively, withholding all remorse –– if she had any to begin with –– for incidentally upsetting them. Instead, she continued without missing a beat.

"Women in this town normally live with their families or by themselves until they're married. I guess it's a bit outlandish to them that you and your cute friend are living in the same small quarters without any kind of romantic relation between you two, but they'll get over the initial shock soon. I wouldn't bother worrying about it."

"It's not like we look down upon you two," Natalie added, coldly turning her cheek pointedly away from Lanna. "We just assumed you and Mark were together because of your living circumstances. _Which_," she side-glanced sourly at the popstar before returning her vision back onto the brunette, "isn't completely crazy to think."

Julia nodded, giving Chelsea a small smile. "I thought you two were so cute together when you came into the store earlier. I just figured you two were newly married."

"Have you two ever," Lanna wiggled her eyebrows. "you know?"

Chelsea could tell the apples of her cheeks lit at the popstar's less than subtle suggestive implication, and shook her head feverishly in response. "O-oh no, definitely not. I mean, Mark's a wonderful guy and everything! But, we just never, ah, crossed that bridge I guess?"

"Hm," replied Lanna, her spirits deflated at the farmer's evidently dull answer. "I see."

The brunette sunk farther into her chair, glancing at Mark while Natalie began to argue viciously with the popstar regarding the town's standard morals and opinions. The blond boy was currently chatting with Cliff, the man that Mark mentioned to Chelsea who often visited Sunshine Islands from Mineral Town, and Denny. Elliot, Natalie's older brother, sat near them; offering the rest of the boys his quiet, indifferent comments here and there.

She refrained herself from cocking an eyebrow as her friend snuck quick glances once and a while toward her table, obviously eying the pretty girls surrounding her, and toward the other side of the diner. Her eyes trailed after his and she found her vision falling on the exotic Asian girl they had briefly met during the start of the night. Before she could allow her mind to race with curious thoughts, Chelsea quickly looked back to the girls when she heard Julia say her name; engaging in another conversation about her mundane life back home with the stunning girl.

"It's good to see you," Cliff mumbled to Mark when Denny had left them briefly to grab a few more cans of beer.

"Always a pleasure," beamed Mark. "How's my sister doing? As opinionated and hotheaded as ever, I presume?"

The rather reserved traveler grinned faintly. "Claire's a nice girl. She's always helping out the town when she can."

"I'm sure she adds her two cents in every now and then," the blond farmer chuckled. "Good to hear she's doing well though. I haven't talked to her in a few days. How's Ann? You still talking to her? Or, trying to at least?"

Cliff flushed at the mention of the redhead's name. "Oh, um, she's…"

"Hey Will!" Denny's voice had risen a few notches, drowning out the rest of Cliff's words and the two boys, along with Elliot, looked toward the fisherman. "Stop being antisocial with Lily and come talk to us, yeah?"

The nobleman smiled politely at the gathering group of young men before leaning forward to whisper something into the dark-haired girl's ear and as he moved away, she nodded. He dipped his head into a slight bow before gingerly taking her petite hand in his, kissing the top of hers gently, and made his way to Mark's area, waving at the boys respectively and accepted the beer Denny graciously offered him.

He popped the metal lid of the can open with a faint hiss releasing from it, greeting the four boys a charming "good evening gentlemen" with a much better version of the English accent Denny had poorly imitated earlier.

The fisherman patted Will's shoulder roughly, grinning sloppily as he spoke, "thatta boy; didn't think I could tear you out of Lily's clutches."

"The fair maiden is far too delicate to have such a thing as an unrefined 'clutch'. She draws me in with her exquisite words and manners," corrected the tall blond before taking a generous sip of his drink.

Denny rolled his eyes, giving Mark a look as he finished his fourth beer. "My mistake."

"Your lady is quite pretty too," Will commented, glancing at Mark.

"You mean Chelsea?" the farmer blinked, flushing. "Oh yeah, I mean, she's beautiful, but she's just my friend. We've been friends for years." He paused momentarily, biting the inside of his cheek, and subtly prodded despite the weary feeling that he may be prying a bit too far, "are you and Lily together?" Will arched his eyebrows questionably, though the blond aristocrat seemed quite naive at the same given time, and Mark surmised his underlying meddling was masked with innocent curiosity.

"He prays," laughed the fisherman. "Only guy here that's really committed is Elliot."

Elliot blushed when the surrounding men all looked at him. He shrunk back into the chair, averting their unwavering gazes. "J-Julia's, uh, well Julia's…" he trailed off, seemingly incapable of articulating his thoughts of the pretty blonde sitting a few feet away.

"Julia's your girlfriend?" Mark asked rather bluntly, unable to contain himself.

Granted, Elliot wasn't a bad looking boy; he just seemed too mild-tempered and meek to catch the eye of someone with Julia's caliber. It wasn't as if the southern belle oozed a shallow perception or outlook, but she seemed like she'd fall for someone's audacious charm akin to Denny's or maybe even to refined words laced with fairytale promises like Will's.

"Practically," Denny yawned. "She's been chasing after him since they were kids. She seemed to really take a liking to you though, city boy."

Mark choked on his beer, rubbing his chest as he coughed up the liquid. He caught a glimpse of Elliot from the corner of his eye, noting hopelessness that filled the meek man's sulking stature and frowned in empathy. "I'm really not here to date," he stated lightly, watching Elliot sigh in relief. "Besides, the plan is to eventually move back to the city once we're financially secure anyway."

"Who knows though," shrugged the fisherman. "You could find the woman of your dreams here without even intending too."

"Denny's correct," Will insisted. "I came to the islands upon my father's request to see the world outside of my family's regale one. Little did I know coming to this particular area would I be given the riveting chance to meet Lily."

Mark glanced at the exotic girl who finished her glass of water she had been sipping on during her conversation with Will, politely pushing it aside as she rose to her feet. She flattened out her foreign-styled ruby red dress that clung to her petite form and looked over toward the table occupied with the group of girls. Julia eagerly waved Lily over and the pretty girl, with slight hesitation, edged her way over.

"Ah, looks like the odd couple finally decided to show up."

Upon Denny's snide comment, the farmer looked to the door only to see the steely cowboy he and Chelsea literally bumped into earlier outside of Mirabelle's store and a small girl with long dark hair accompanying him. Will coughed uncomfortably at their untimely arrival.

The dark-haired fisherman smirked at the aristocrat. "I forgot how much a fan you and your uncle are of Vaughn." He glanced toward the pair, cocking an eyebrow. "I thought he and Sabrina broke up?"

"They've remained friends," Will said stiffly.

"Right," Denny wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Mark as he repeated, "they've remained _friends_." He chuckled sheepishly when the nobleman's cheeks flushed with frustration and sheer disapproval at the relations between his pretty cousin and the patronizing cowboy. "I wouldn't get too worked up Will; especially when you can't even look the guy in the eye to articulate how much you hate him being near your precious cousin."

"Says the only guy on the islands that can," pointed out Elliot. He quickly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand nervously when Denny snorted confidently, giving him a quick glare that made the redhead recoil and fall silent.

Will frowned. "I truly cannot fathom how you've maintained a friendship with such a presumptuous being."

"You're just pissed he punched you square in the eye that night you found Sabrina sneaking around with him on the pier last year," Denny snapped.

The alcohol meant to loosen the tension between the men suddenly appeared to add a little more friction to the group. Mark bit his bottom lip, exchanging a glance with Cliff who simply shrugged; unable nor capable of squashing the change of mood and atmosphere before things began to get too out of hand. Him, Mark, and Elliot were simply stuck watching an unraveling shift of events at the arrival of the cowboy who slithered himself into the diner.

"Maybe we should change the subject," Elliot suggested quietly.

The underlying anger that currently boiled within the two young men seemed to have abruptly peeled away. Embarrassed from the previous discussion had taken such a turn for the worst, both Will and Denny mumbled apologies, clinking beers as a visual sign that they had made amends, and began talking about the abnormally nice weather the middle of spring had brought them.

Mark held back a sigh before slapping a forced smile on his face as he returned back to the cooled down conversation Denny and Will engaged themselves in; Cliff and Elliot still barely a part of the intoxicated small talk. He didn't know why, but as the night raged on, he had an uneasy feeling wash over his body.


	4. o4: All Work, No Play

**Author's notes:** My apologies for the long update! Finals killed me. But it's summer and I should (hopefully) be updating this story, as well as my recently published, _The Five People You Meet In Heaven_, story on a more frequent basis. Thank you all for the feedback! It's very much appreciated!

**./.\.  
><strong>

**Chapter Four:**  
><strong>All Work, No Play<br>**

**.\./.**

The eventful evening had ended with Elliot and Cliff carrying Denny's passed out form back to his shack and Lanna demanding her and Chelsea be "best friends" by the week's end. Natalie scoffed, openly scolding the intoxicated blonde for forcing friendship upon someone and also that there was no such thing as calling _dibs _on actual people while Lily and Julia carried a quiet conversation behind the bickering girls. Will stumbled home, smiling crookedly at Mark, reassuring the aspiring rancher he was perfectly capable of making his way back to his yacht despite the large amount of alcohol he consumed throughout the celebration, and bid them a goodbye after kissing Chelsea's hand.

Mark and Chelsea shared a glance between one another before deciding to head back to their house in the middle of the quieted down night only to wake up about six hours later; the rising sunlight flittering through the shades of their new home.

Chelsea was the first one to be up and about, taking it upon herself to clean the insides of the house that had unforgivably collected what appeared to be about a half of inch of dust over its several seasons of vacancy. While her mop, heavy with soap and water, met the worn wooden floors, coffee was brewing in her beloved –– not to mention bulky and space-intruding –– coffee-maker she begged Mark not to auction off on the internet but keep and take with them on their voyage over to the islands. The sweet smell of the soft exotic beans lofted through the small quarters of the house and gradually coaxed the sleepy blond out of his deep sleep.

The morning had not been so forgiving to him as it was with Chelsea. Groggily, he dragged himself out of the fold-out bed and forced himself into the shower, scrubbing away the smell of beer that stuck to his flesh from the night before. After putting on a pair of old jeans and a black tee-shirt, he stepped out of the dimly lit bathroom and poured himself a cup of coffee, forcing a lopsided smile to his face when his roommate greeted him with a "good morning".

Chelsea observed him and his visible state of suffering from a hangover and felt a twisted smirk rise the corners of her lips. "I see the Beer Goddess wasn't too forgiving this morning," she hummed teasingly and giggled when he slowly turned his head toward her, clearly miserable as he sipped on his coffee.

"Denny's like a frat boy," he groaned to himself, "and you know about European countries and their alcohol. Will's got a high tolerance for ours."

"Always trying to subtly one up someone," the brunette shook her head disapprovingly.

Mark snorted, rolling his eyes. "Hey, at least give me some credit! I wasn't on _their_ level when we left the diner, was I?"

"A drink and a half more you could've been," she replied lightly before passing him a plate of sunny-side up eggs and two pieces of toast covered with a light coat of butter. "Now eat; we've got lots of work to do today. I talked to Natalie last night about crops and she said we could probably get a crop or two of turnips going before the season ends and we have to start all over with summer crops."

Mark took a gracious bite of his toast while simultaneously shoving in forkfuls of his eggs into his garbage-disposal of a mouth. The brunette almost blanched at the sight of her friend attempting to unrealistically vacuum up his breakfast in two bites.

"Doing your research, I see," he commented through breaks of chewing his food. He paused, swallowing down the last of his hearty meal and took another sip of his coffee before taking his plate and mug and began to wash off its leftover contents in the sink. The hangover seemed to currently be kept at bay and Mark's bodily functions and will to walk and move appeared to have returned to him. As he dried off his dishes, he added, "I'm thinking we could start clearing the fields now and once we clean up a good amount of the rocks and weeds, you can go into town and buy seeds and I'll try to forage some stuff all over the islands or start working on fixing up the barn and chicken coop."

Chelsea raised her eyebrows, clearly impressed by her counterpart's more than sufficient idea of a plan. "Okay," she finally agreed, pulling her hair back in a high ponytail and placed her cleaning utensils away while Mark brushed off the crumbs from his shirt and placed his favorite hat on his head backwards. "Sounds like a plan."

A few hours had stretched by and thankfully the day hadn't brought on deathly hot weather. The two farmers, surprisingly, managed to clean up a quarter of the field quite sufficiently and decided to take a break when late afternoon hit them; their shoulders sore and their backs slightly strained.

Mark took off his ball cap, wiping the perspiration that formed into tiny beads of sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. He brushed the dirt from his jeans, placing his hat back on and sighed, glancing at Chelsea who was already trying to clean the filth and grim that had covered her body from pulling weeds and breaking rocks.

He smirked at his struggling friend, clearly disgusted with herself and her current state of poor hygiene. "Wanna clean up before you go into town, Chels?"

She gave him a dark, fleeting glare before wiping the leftover dirt from her cheek. "I'm fine," she insisted sharply. She let down her ponytail, smoothing her hair out before she pulled her bandanna over her head. "You said Chen's store on Verdure Island is where I can buy seeds?"

The blond nodded, "yeah. So meet you back here in an hour? Shouldn't take too long for me to explore a few of the islands and for you to buy the seeds."

She gave him a quick wave, and he rolled his eyes, assuming that was a '_yes_' from his retreating counterpart, and he watched as the petite brunette's figure became smaller and smaller as she walked further into town and farther away from their farm. Mark smirked to himself, placing their tools away before mapping out his brief journey through the numerous islands.

...

"Here you go, miss, ten bags of turnip seeds," Chen's voice boomed across his store as he repeated back her order. "Are you sure you can handle this amount of bags?"

Chelsea smiled kindly at the shop owner before nodding her head, placing the small sacks of seeds into her shoulder knapsack and exchanged the bags with money. "Mark and I should be fine. Thank you though!"

"Remember to water your crops every day unless it's raining!" he called after her, waving.

As the brunette gently closed the door behind her, she turned his head at the sound of her name. "Chelsea!" greeted a familiar blonde beauty, motioning for the rancher to come closer. As Chelsea approached her, the girl smiled brightly, "Buying seeds from Chen already?"

"We finished some of the field," Chelsea grinned politely, still slightly unnerved and rather intimidated by the girl standing before her. "What are you up to, Julia?"

"I just went on my lunch break," Julia beamed. "You know what? We should get something to eat if you haven't already –– my treat!"

Chelsea flushed. "O-oh Julia, that's awfully nice of you but I don't think that's necessary..."

The blonde laughed lightly, waving her hand dismissively at the rancher. "Don't be silly; you're new to the islands. It'd be my pleasure. Why don't we grab a quick bite to eat at Haila's Cafe? You'll love the food there. I eat there with Natalie and Lily sometimes. Here, follow me."

Julia tugged on Chelsea's sleeve, not allowing the brunette enough proper time to politely decline her offer and the shorter girl had suddenly found herself following the blonde bombshell toward the cafe the young townsfolk often frequented.

Almost bitterly, Chelsea wanted so desperately to claw out the hidden flaws of the southern belle walking aside of her. Not only did the girl have the face and body of a goddess, she was contagiously bubbly and so sweet the sheer sound of her delicate, sugary voice could make your insides rot. But because of the genuine quality Julia held so visibly to her demeanor, it was difficult to allow the poisonous jealousy overtake Chelsea. In fact, she instead felt herself drawn to the young woman with bright blue eyes and who wore her heart so clearly on her sleeve.

Perhaps Julia's downfall had been the naivety that radiated off her body.

The two continued to walk in silence until they reached the quaint cafe belonging to the villager, Haila. Just as the pair of girls walked in Chelsea felt herself involuntarily tense at the sight of the tall, clad in black, boy she had less than friendly relations with –– if she could even consider herself having any sort of relations with him to begin with.

"Hello Vaughn," greeted the blonde sweetly while the brunette farmer merely gave him a weak wave.

"What're you doing here?" Vaughn muttered as he slightly tipped his hat downward. Chelsea felt her mouth run dry of words to reply with; already assuming the question was directed more toward the southern belle beside her than herself anyway.

"I'm on my lunch break," replied Julia, unaffected by the chilly stare she was under.

There was a momentary pause and then, "you eat lunch at the shop."

The blonde rolled her eyes, visibly annoyed by her counterpart's antics and third degree questioning. "Oh, stop being such a smart-alec and mind your own business, Vaughn!" she snapped, her relatively soothing voice rising a few notches to an outright shrill.

"Thirty minutes, Julia," he reminded her pointing to his watch. He, like Julia with his aloof and patronizing exterior, dealt with her snarky outburst thoroughly unfazed. He tipped his hat once more before exiting the cafe without another snide remark to offer.

Julia shook her head before leading Chelsea to a spot she often frequented in the restaurant with Natalie, buying herself a sandwich while the rancher quickly mumbled an order of tomato salad. Once the girls were well in halfway through their meals, admittedly surprised by their eagerness to eat and their sudden overwhelming feeling of hunger, did the blonde speak again.

"Sorry about Vaughn, honey," she smiled weakly. "He's just like that." She paused before giggling. "Now that I think about it, he's _always_ been like that."

"It's fine," Chelsea dismissed. She munched thoughtfully on her salad, asking after swallowing down her food, "you've known him for a long time?"

"I've known Vaughn my entire life," sighed Julia. "He used to live here. His mom was friends with Mama for a while until she just upped and left one day. She came back, eventually, but then left again and took him with her. We had to be about ten by then. I hadn't seen him for a few years; I think Natalie and Elliot even began to forget he ever existed, but then when he was eighteen he just suddenly showed up unannounced to deliver animals to me and Mama. He's been our town's livestock dealer ever since."

Chelsea forced herself to appear mildly interested when she was, in all reality, completely fascinated and intrigued by the uncovering history of the younger townsfolk of these islands. She silently mulled over her thoughts before carefully prodding, "so you've all known each other since kids?"

"Just Elliot, Natalie, Vaughn and myself," the blonde answered. "Denny was always in and out of our lives until he decided to finally stay here a few years ago. Sabrina and her father moved here when I was about sixteen and she was fifteen; Will came a year later once he turned eighteen. Lily and Pierre moved here the next year after Will. Then Lanna showed up to the islands for her 'break'." She paused momentarily to blow a wisp of her hair that fell into her vision before adding, "Mama's delighted there's more people on the islands around my age. I suppose she doesn't think that Natalie and I are all that social."

The image of the red-haired tomboy with a rather brash attitude fleetingly crossed through the forefront of Chelsea's mind. She felt a lopsided grin adorn her face at the thought of the two girls, complete opposite in personalities, as small children; Natalie doing all the talking and probably bossing poor, subservient Julia around.

"At least we have more peopled involved in our festivals. Come to think of it, that might be why Vaughn's been so snappy lately. I think he's trying to compete in the Horse Festival this year."

"Festivals?" Chelsea blinked and Julia nodded.

"Yes, festivals." the blonde giggled after taking a small bite of her sandwich. "We actually have quite a few every season. You don't have to participate in all of them, but you're more than welcomed to come and speculate. Unfortunately, since you and Mark came to the islands now in the middle of spring, you missed a few festivals. Besides the Horse Festival, we still have the Sheep Festival, which is before the Horse Festival, and the Spring Crop Festival at the very end of the season."

She tapped her chin thoughtfully with her index finger before snapping her fingers as an idea popped into her head and dug into her rose-colored purse, pulling out a slightly crumpled piece of paper and a pen with lilac ink. Without a word, she ducked her head slightly with small wavy blonde locks of hair that had come loose from her high ponytail curtaining her face, and began feverishly jotting down dates and words Chelsea couldn't quite decipher from the angle where she was positioned and seated. Instead, the farmer stiffly took a sip of her drink before awkwardly peering down at her hands folded over her lap.

Chelsea peered upward when Julia purposely dropped the pen from her hand and raked her ocean blue eyes over what she had written before presenting the sheet of paper to her new friend. As the farmer took the paper from her hands, she beamed brightly, explaining, "it's a list of all the festivals, their dates and themes for the entire year! I thought it'd be easier than asking around about them every week or month."

The brunette smiled brightly at the southern belle before she neatly folded the sheet and placed it securely in the left front pocket of her shorts. "Mark and I will definitely put this to good use. Thank you so much, Julia."

"Not a problem," Julia giggled again; her soft version of a delicate laugh sounded like wind chimes barely brushing against a quiet breeze. Her eyes flicked toward the cafe's hanging clock near the counter, and she sighed. "My lunch break's almost up. It was nice to see you, Chelsea. Now don't be a stranger and make sure you ask me, Mama or even Vaughn if you and Mark need help with anything!"

Chelsea waved as the girl left her, now wondering where her aforementioned roommate's current whereabouts exactly were.

...

Meanwhile, Mark had either taken a brief boat ride or wandered around from island to island, gathering anything that looked remotely edible and purchasable; placing each herb or fruit gingerly in his backpack. Gradually, he found himself back on the familiar Sprout Island, observing the waves being pulled toward and pushed back by the pristine shore. His vision eventually fell upon Denny and the fisherman eagerly waved the rancher over to his spot on the pier; his fishing pole in hand and a large bucket filled with sea water and a few fish he had caught within the hour placed aside of him.

"Hey man!" the curly-haired boy greeted, beaming. Mark smiled in response, cocking an eyebrow as a tiny black figure perched itself rather diligently on Denny's shoulder. It stared back at the rancher, unwavering. Denny brought a hand to his preoccupied shoulder, giving the little bird a quick pat on its head. "This is Popper. The little guy must have been flying around when you and Chelsea saw me yesterday. Anyway, what brings you over to Sprout Island?"

"On a break from farm work," answered Mark. "Chelsea went off to buy seeds and grab something to eat and I'm just trying to collect things to sell in the meantime." He eyed Denny's fishing pole before focusing his attention back onto his new friend. "Besides selling crops and animal produce, how else could you make money around here?"

"Fishing?" Denny shrugged, flicking his unresponsive fishing pole. "Or you could mine at Volcanic Island; that's the reason Sabrina and her dad moved here for. Lily too."

The faint image of the exotic girl lingered briefly in the forefront of Mark's brain until he blinked it away, flushing slightly at the thought of yet another pretty girl who inhabited the islands. "Lily? Really? She doesn't look much like a miner."

"Treasure hunter," corrected the fisherman, reeling in his bait as he began to retire for the day. "I know she appears dainty as a flower but don't let her looks fool you; Lily's a smart girl and she's probably got more guts than all of the guys put here together. She knows what she's doing. If anything, she'd be the one to ask to help you with your new, er, _endeavors_ per say. You're not giving up on farming already, are you?"

The blond laughed, shaking his head. "No, of course not. But growing crops is pretty tedious and I figured since working with Chelsea will cut down our workload, I'd try to do something else in the meantime."

"Good logic," Denny smirked, tapping off the lingering water from his fishing pole on the edge of the pier before he picked up his bucket, looking at Mark again. "You wanna come hang for a bit? I was about to crack open some beers; Lanna said she might come over and Will should be over in a little while."

Mark felt himself swallow at the mention of beer, noticing then and there how dry his throat had been. He resisted the urge to lick his chapped lips before shaking his head with an apologetic frown. "I would but I've gotta eat and meet up with Chelsea soon anyway."

"I'll grill you some fish," offered the fisherman. "You can invite Chelsea too, if you want. When're you supposed to meet her?"

"Well, not for another half an hour," the blond muttered. He shook his head again, sighing before looking back at Denny. "I'd love to, but I gotta pass. Sorry man."

"No problem," shrugged Denny, giving him an earnest smile. "Another time! Lanna and I will probably have a cookout after the Sheep or Horse Festival. I'll let you know!"

Marc waved after the retreating fisherman and sighed to himself once again, tugging the straps of his backpack closer to him as he made his journey back to his farm.

* * *

><p><strong>Last Minute Author's Notes:<strong> Definitely more of a filler chapter, but I promise you the next coming chapters will be a bit more riveting! And yes! This is a story where Vaughn and Julia aren't cousins but childhood friends! Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I don't believe their family relationship was ever confirmed so I took it upon myself to make them not related. Anyway, feedback would be great! Thank you!


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